


We Make All Things New

by lorichelle



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: A/E Holiday Bang meme, Fluff, Hand Jobs, M/M, Memories, Multiple Orgasms, New Year's Eve, Public Sex, Romance, discussions and realizations, mentions of past recreational drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 03:13:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lorichelle/pseuds/lorichelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes the road to all things new starts with someone who was there all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Make All Things New

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my friend, personal cheerleader and queen of epicness, Steph (OneWhoSitsWithTurtles)

 

 

Arthur liked being alone on New Year’s Eve.

Every year it was crazy during the holidays due to his large family. He spent most of the year gone and traveling for work; even between jobs he had a few residences around the world that he would camp out at, so he would go home to the States each year for the month long festivities and spend time with his family.

He always had a flight booked for Paris for a lunch time departure the day after Christmas so he would spend the morning having breakfast with his parents and older brother who would then drive him to the airport.

His favorite place he had under his name was his luxury flat in Paris and this is where he spent each New Years.  Once he entered his apartment, he went into his room where he passed out on the bed in his clothes and slept for ten hours. He took a shower when he woke, unpacked and tidied up around the house. He then went to the market and stocked up on fresh food and beverages and toiletries. He bought a new coat and scarf even though winter this year in Paris wasn’t so heavy. He loved the light blanket of snow everywhere and how the kaleidoscope of city lights lit up everything and made it look like Christmas even when there were no lights or decorations; he did love the Christmas atmosphere here. Even though he was alone every year, it was nice to relax and bask in the season and get ready to welcome a new year.

Now it was late afternoon on New Year’s Eve and Arthur was curled up on his couch in light blue jeans, a long sleeved red shirt and socks; the television was on mute with some game show and he was flipping through a paperback of Fahrenheit 451 that his mother had gotten him for Christmas. He had read many American Classics back in school but he had passed up this one; but to read it as an adult was quite an enlightening experience and it gave his perceptions a poke.

He slid his bookmark into his current spot (of course he didn’t like to bend pages) and sat it down on the coffee table, thinking about what to make for dinner when there was a knock at the door.

He froze.

There was no way; no one knew about this flat except Cobb.

He reached under the couch where he kept a little snub nose .38 and silently padded over to the door, thankful for his socks masking any sound of his feet. The knock had not been loud or urgent, nor did the individual knock again but he peered through the peephole and only saw dirty blonde hair on a head that was lowered so he couldn’t make out a face, but the person was male, that was for sure. The man wasn’t wearing a ski mask or anything so he carefully unlocked his door and opened it, keeping the snub down low behind him.

Maybe he shouldn’t have answered the door.

“Arthur, darling!”

Despite being startled at the Brit, of all people, randomly showing up here at his private flat, he was momentarily taken back by how… good Eames looked. He was wearing a black long sleeved button down with light grey slacks, carrying a khaki overcoat and a small duffle bag. Arthur also saw that the man had no product in his hair but it was neat and brushed and clean… and soft looking. Arthur’s fingers twitched with the reflexive urge to touch it but he shook his head and clicked the safety back on.

Eames blinked.

“Always paranoid; were you really going to shoot me?”

Arthur sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Most likely.”

Eames smiled but shifted on his feet. “Are you going to let me in?”

“Why? Just because you show up randomly at my door – “

“…is no excuse for you to forget your manners.”

He rolled his eyes and waved the Forger in, closing the door behind him. Eames set his bag on the floor right beside the door and Arthur, remembering his manners, took the coat from him and hung it on the little row of hooks he had on the wall by the light switch. Eames nodded his thanks.

Eames gave him a once, maybe thrice over and Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“Never seen you look so casual. This must be the first time you’ve ever experienced true comfort in an outfit.” He gave a crooked grin and though his skin prickled under the scrutiny, Arthur was not thrown off.

“Well it looks like the fashion fairy visited you last night.”

“They’re new,” Eames said and bounced where he stood.

“Did you buy nice clothes just to come see me?”

“No,” but the wink the man gave him earned him another eye roll.

“Nobody knows about this flat.”

“No one but Cobb.”

Arthur froze again. “Don’t tell me you got him to tell you –“

“Of course not, Arthur; maybe I just know you spend every New Year’s here in Paris and maybe I just happen to have a crummy little flat of my own on the other side of town. But you knew that already didn’t you?” Eames leaned in dramatically with a sarcastic wink for effect and Arthur had nothing to say to that.

Instead he made his way into his little kitchen and started setting out cookware and pulling ingredients from the refrigerator. “I’m guessing I am to feed you?”

Eames leaned against the bar and cast his eyes down and drew circles on the dark brown surface. “It would be lovely but you don’t have to fix anything for me.”

Arthur pushed some carrots, a knife and a cutting board towards him.

“I didn’t have to let you into my home, so go take off your shoes and get to cutting. Do you like Beef Bourguignon?”

-

It was a hearty meal and Eames complimented so with almost every bite and Arthur couldn’t help the little genuine smiles that were pulling at his face. Eames wasn’t a bad cook either; together the meal turned out amazing, if he did say so himself. Eames rinsed the dishes and handed them to Arthur so he could place each one in their respective place in the dish washerthen set it to run. After cleaning up, Arthur opened a bottle of expensive red wine and poured them each a glass. He went to hand one to Eames who had walked over and was staring out the glass doors that opened to the rooftop terrace which overlooked the city. The Forger took the glass with a smile and together they sipped while watching the very last rays of the sun set below the horizon. The city lights came on to glitter beneath them like stars in an upside down sky.

Truth be told, it was easy, standing in companionable silence with the Brit. He glanced over at Eames who had an almost pensive look upon his features that totally didn’t suit him but actually made his steel blue eyes quite bold in the fading sunlight. It seemed out of place and Arthur disliked things being out of place.

He turned and wandered to go turn off all the lights in the apartment, leaving only the ceiling lights on but dimmed just enough to see, casting a glow of ambiance. His eyes fell on Eames’ bag by the door. He returned to stand beside the Forger who was still silent, taking another sip of his drink.

“So did you only just get in town?” he asked quietly.

Eames answered in an even quieter voice.

“Yes; haven’t even been home yet.”

Arthur’s brow furrowed in thought. “Why did you come straight here?”

Eames looked hesitant to say and that pensive look still hadn’t left his face. He worried his lip and finished his wine in one drink and cast his eyes downward.

“I’m sorry I just showed up without warning, love,” the pet term was whispered. “But this was the earliest I could get home and I didn’t really want to be alone on New Year’s Eve.” He cleared his throat and shifted awkwardly, maybe even looking a little embarrassed. Arthur found it endearing.

He had planned on spending the evening alone as always but the evening so far with Eames had been enjoyable and he found that if he kicked him out now, it would quickly turn boring and he didn’t think that he would be able to go right back to his book or watch television. Lord above, it was nice that Eames was here.

He leaned over and gently took Eames’ empty glass and went back into the kitchen where he put both of theirs in the sink. He then walked over to the front door and Eames looked absolutely crushed when Arthur came back and handed him his coat. He took it with a nod and didn’t meet Arthur’s eyes.

“I, uh, t-thank you for dinner, Arthur, I appreciate you letting me spend a little time here,” he stammered as he put on his coat. “I hope you have a good -“ he paused before he could button up when he saw Arthur putting on his own black coat. The Point Man smiled at him and grabbed the bottle of wine off the kitchen counter and handed it to a stunned Eames. He stepped forward and opened the twin doors that led to the terrace.

He held his hand out for Eames to take.

“I have a really expensive and comfy lounge sofa out here.”

 

#

 

“So what is your favorite New Year’s memory?”

Arthur quirked his eyebrow at Eames’ question and took a drink from their second bottle of wine of the evening. He tapped the glass rim against his lips in thought; did he have any memories? Well, wait of course he did, but did he have any memories worth sharing? He hummed to himself and passed the bottle back to Eames.

“Don’t tell me you sat at home in suits while organizing your desk or arranging your legos by color.”

“Shut up, Eames.”

The Point Man spent a minute and random images passed through his inner vision.

“Well, when I was nine, I stayed up late watching television and then my Mom came in sometime after midnight and said we missed the fireworks. So she grabbed some sparklers and we ran around outside in the front yard like idiots in the middle of the night celebrating after everyone had already stopped.” He gave a smile at that.

He heard the Forger clear his throat and he took the offered bottle for his next turn for a sip.

“When I was eighteen,” Eames began. “I was at a mate’s family’s home out on the outskirts of London and we were drinking outside and the like. When the countdown on the telly reached midnight, we set off some fireworks out front. The roof caught fire.”

Arthur nearly choked on his sip and they both chuckled at that. He wiped his mouth and handed the bottle back to Eames. “Was everyone alright?”

“Of course, it was only a little spark on the edge of the roof so we were able to climb up and save the structure.” He winked at Arthur, who put an arm behind his head.

He hummed again in thought as he took another sip when Eames handed it back again. He stared up at the stars that twinkled in the sky and a memory flashed in his mind’s eye.

“When I was twenty, I rolled on ecstasy while swimming nude in the pool in our backyard.”

He practically heard Eames’ head whip around to look at him.

“During winter?” the man’s voice wavered and it might have been because he was focusing on a different aspect of Arthur’s answer, sounding like he was slightly lost in his imagination.

“It was a heated, salt water pool that had a light that changed colors.” He made a pleased sound as he recalled that particularly fun night. “The sky looked the same then too.” He finished softly, still gazing up at the stars. He heard Eames shift, probably to look upwards as well. He glanced over and saw that the other man had slid down in his space on the lounge couch; his expression looked like he was focusing on something far away.

He tapped Eames on the shoulder with the bottle and he seemed to snap back to the moment. He took the offered beverage but didn’t take a drink right away. Instead, he seemed to sit in quiet pondering for a few minutes. Arthur didn’t mind; he just relaxed and enjoyed the view of the full moon and the sounds of people out and about in the streets below and some on the rooftops of the building next to them, some gathered with company on their balconies.

He couldn’t help but be aware of the changes in the state of the man sitting only a few feet to his left. He had felt Eames tense for a moment and then shift as if he were antsy and then he was still once more but he seemed to be vibrating in contemplation. He tried to not pay any mind but he was curious if he had said something that bothered him.

Finally, Eames spoke softly, almost shyly. “I didn’t take you for someone who did drugs.”

So that’s what was bothering him.

“There’s not a lot I haven’t tried. Not because I was a junkie or anything, I just liked to try new things. I’m a researcher; I like to know everything and how everything works. Haven’t you ever tried anything recreationally?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Well, there you go.”

Ever so slightly, or more of an attempt to not be too obvious about it, Eames scooted closer to him so that now there was only about two feet of space in between them. He handed the bottle to Arthur again.

There was more silence for a while but it was comfortable. Every once in a while they’d sigh or switch positions slightly, like crossing their ankles or sliding down even lower on the plush cushions. He found it surprisingly easy to relax with the Forger as the night went on. Yes, the man was often energetic, snarky at work and, in Arthur’s opinion, never seemed to take jobs seriously. He was smug and always had something sarcastic to say about everything and had always loved to tease Arthur; to rile him up much to the Point Man’s irritation. But Arthur had never spent any leisurely time with the man, time outside of work, with no to-do list or important conversations to be had. And yet, even though the conversations they were having here tonight out on Arthur’s terrace weren’t serious, they felt important to be had. He made himself admit that it was nice. He had never considered anyone he’d ever worked with a friend, aside from Cobb, except maybe now his Inception team. They had made magic together and now there was probably no one he trusted more in dream share than his teammates. Even Saito, he dared to guess. Maybe he could call them friends. Friends were people you trusted, right?

He wondered what it would be like to be Eames’ friend. He did trust the man, despite everything. And he found this kind of time with him to be less and less strange.

“When I was nineteen, my boyfriend and I were talking and drinking with friends and didn’t notice that midnight had come and gone and we ended up having our New Year’s kiss eleven minutes late.”

Well, so much for that.

Arthur’s eyes widened comically, he could feel it, and he tensed but tried not to because he just knew it would be noticeable. He squeezed the wine bottle tight and took a few good, long swigs. Ugh, you don’t swig red wine. He ended up coughing and was suddenly embarrassed in his surprise.

Was Eames gay? Well, he wasn’t straight. Or maybe he was and he had just been experimenting? But that didn’t explain the long bout of silence. Well shit, that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with it. Why was he shivering?

Well, he thought, you learn something new every day.

“Sorry,” came the quiet voice next to him. Arthur dared a glance at him and found that Eames was turned completely away from him, looking out in the opposite direction, his knees drawn up to sit Indian style. He swallowed and forced out a “Why?”

“Didn’t mean to startle you by outing myself like that; it was a funny memory I thought I’d share. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” The Forger sounded almost sad and that, along with a small gust of chilly air brought him back to his senses.

“Um no, I’m not uncomfortable,” he started but Eames turned and gave him a look that clearly told him how much of a liar he was. He swallowed and felt his cheeks flush.

“Sorry, I was just surprised.” he told truthfully.

It was Eames’ turn for a flush to rise on his skin and Arthur felt like an ass. Eames had just shared a fragile and defining part of himself and here he was all awkward and shit. Eames had trusted him enough to…

Oh.

Eames sighed and settled again, moving both of his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. He seemed less tense now. When he spoke again Arthur could hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re one of the very few, if only people in the business I legitimately trust, professionally and personally. I’m at ease around you and thus I feel like I can be myself; even if I do drive you to madness.”

Arthur’s mouth fell open.

In two sentences, so much about the Forger was explained to him. He always thought he was putting him on, purposefully nagging him and pushing his buttons and yes, maybe driving him mad and getting kicks from it but apparently, Eames was just having fun with him. He was being himself; because he was carefree around him and felt safe enough to have his guard down enough to do so. Arthur was completely unprepared for how good all of this made him feel. He felt a little honored, actually. It’s not every day you hear something like that from someone, especially in this business. Arthur felt something grab him tight on the inside and he realized that Eames was the only person in the business who he knew felt this way about him.

And he also realized that he shared the same sentiment. He wouldn’t be sitting here so open and casual with Eames if he didn’t. He felt like he owed it to him to say so.

“Thank you.”

He must not have been expecting that because Eames jumped slightly and raised his eyebrows at him. “F-for what?”

Arthur inched closer to Eames on the lounge sofa.

“For sharing that with me, for trusting me. I’m glad you feel you can be yourself. I guess I just never noticed before. I guess that must be testament to the length I can see past my own nose. And,” he paused and turned to look at Eames seriously, because he was a fair man and he returned Eames’ honesty with his own. “And right now I feel like I’m able to be myself with you too.” He gave Eames a genuine smile who returned it with brightening eyes.

“I don’t have many people that I count as friends and keep close in hand, Arthur, but over the years you have certainly made a spot of your own in my grasp.”

Arthur could only stare; there were no words to reply with or to describe what he was feeling in that moment. All he could do was lock his brown eyes with blue and hand Eames the wine bottle that he had been hogging this whole time. The Forger smiled and finished off what was left, smacking his lips. “Well, looks like we’re out, pet.”

Arthur grinned and got up and quickly went inside. Some clinking and the pop of a cork later and Arthur was walking back outside and sitting down right back into his seat, now only a foot between him and Eames.

Eames laughed as Arthur handed him the new bottle and took big sip, still smiling. Arthur took a moment to admire Eames’ smile, the way it completely changed his face and Arthur took a mental step back and had to admit to himself that Eames was quite handsome. Especially here under the moonlight, cheeks tinted pink from the cold, full lips red and wet from sipping the wine and Arthur found himself leaning in, eyes fixated on those lips. But Eames looked back at him then with something in his eyes that maybe resembled hesitant and fearful desire. He blinked hard and forced his thoughts away. They got comfortable again and listened to the festivities going on around them as they continued to pass the bottle back and forth between them.

 

#

 

“So, what does New Year’s mean to you?” Arthur asked softly and with a heavy sigh. Maybe close to twenty minutes had passed between them in easy silence while they listened to the sound of people in the streets below and early fire crackers going off. They watched the lights of the city below as they reached up towards to sky, contrasting wildly against the brightness of the full moon. They were halfway through their third bottle of wine and the buzz and warmth of the alcohol was soothing. Arthur was finding himself more loosened up and more open as the night went on.

After a few minutes he thought the Forger had not heard him or maybe had fallen asleep but he soon heard Eames’ rich voice float towards him as if on a river.

“Rebirth.”

Arthur started at the word and his head turned sharply to see that Eames was lying with his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles with his hands neatly folded across his belly and his eyes closed; he was fully relaxed and Arthur thought for a moment that Eames was in a state of Zen. And though he could not see those steel blue eyes, his face still looked as open as a door.

“Repentance; a chance to reflect on where we’ve been, how we’ve changed and where we are going. I usually spend time in front of a mirror around New Year’s, sometimes hours. You can learn a lot about yourself when you’re able to look at yourself like your reflection is a separate entity.”

His voice lightened and seemed far away as he continued to speak. Arthur was rapt.

“I think of all the bad things I had done, if I took the time to help anyone or if I even gave a damn about myself anymore. Most importantly, I would ask myself what I was living for, if my life had any meaning or if I truly wanted to see tomorrow.”

Arthur’s heart stopped and felt his whole body jerk. Was he hearing correctly?

“Every New Year’s is a chance to ask myself if I’m happy.”

The words flew out of Arthur’s mouth before he could even think about them.

“Are you happy, Eames?”

Eames didn’t answer for a long time but Arthur didn’t rush him; the intense emotions rolling off Eames were crashing against him like a tsunami. Every word was a gust of wind against his face. Arthur tried to find a pillar somewhere in those words to clutch so the rest didn’t take him away.

Eames still hadn’t answered him so Arthur took the chance to focus on what was going on inside him at that moment. He felt naked; even though he hadn’t confessed anything crucial or uttered anything special about himself, Arthur felt exposed. He felt like everything Eames was saying had pulled back a curtain and suddenly he was revealed. All of a sudden the man next to him wasn’t a colleague, a pain in the ass, an acquaintance or even a Forger. He was a human being and he knew he was truly seeing Eames for the first time and he was ashamed; he was guilty and embarrassed for his general opinion of him. He had seen nothing more than an immensely talented member of dream share but also a reckless, irritating thief with an obnoxious fashion sense. Was he really that shallow? Who else had he just skimmed the surface of? 

He felt like he was on the verge of panicking at this awareness, like his own mirror was cracking, and he needed Eames’ answer now.

“Eames, are you happy?” he pleaded.

The smile that spread across Eames’ face was serene.

“I am right now.”

All of the panic and negative feelings assaulting him started melting away pleasantly and Arthur felt captured in the moment.

Eames was happy; right here, right now.

“With me?” Again, the words were out of their own volition and his voice was barely above a whisper as he asked.

Eames opened his eyes and looked straight into his own and the smile that was still there lit up his entire face. There was nothing but unchallenged certainty in his answer.

“Yes.”

Arthur found himself smiling right back and he realized he was happy too; happy that Eames was happy. He gave a shit about someone other than himself.

He thought of Dom and Mal, his two closest friends that he had been with for years. They were important to him and he knew he was loved by them. Then after everything that happened, he had lost both of them, in more ways than one. But he remembered how he felt when he saw Dom walk past security at LAX. He had felt joy for them all that they accomplished the impossible; relief that Dom had been collected by Miles without a hitch; and closure at that fact that his friend was going home and making his broken family complete and that he had let Mal go to rest in peace and even though Arthur didn’t know when or if he would ever see him again, he was nothing if not happy for him.

He had forgotten what it was like to have close friends and he missed it. He missed caring for someone and having them care for him in return.

He sat up slightly and scooted over, settling his body close, his side right up against Eames. The Forger looked surprised at first but leaned right into Arthur in return, still smiling.

Arthur wanted to be Eames’ friend.

It didn’t take long for Eames to direct Arthur’s earlier question back to him.

“What does New Year’s mean to you, darling?”

Arthur didn’t have to think about his answer. He turned slightly towards Eames who turned to face him as well. They were shoulder to shoulder and their thighs brushed, their knees bumping together. For the first time that night, his senses were heightened now that he was right up against Eames, sharing space and air. He inhaled deeply; finding a musky scent that permeated his sinuses and it felt right, it felt like home.

He had a random thought that he could get used to this.

He sighed contentedly, then a burst of ice cold wind breezed over them and he shivered, leaning further into Eames and closing his eyes.

“A chance to make things new.”

 

#

 

He must have dozed off for a minute because suddenly he wasn’t so cold anymore despite still being outside. There was heat reaching him from the warm body that was flush against his. Chills ran down his spine as he felt hot lips on his neck just below his ear, lips that were just gently brushing his skin and hot breath ghosting across his skin that made him inhale sharply. He couldn’t decide if he should open his eyes or not, unsure if he wanted to break whatever kind of moment this was. He knew it was Eames of course; Eames had been here the whole night. The man had a crisp and musky scent that was easily distinguishable, always sending a subliminal message to his brain whenever it greeted his senses.

He focused when he felt fingers snake their way into the hair at the nape of his neck and a nose rub against his own. Instinctively his eyes opened and he found himself eye to eye with deep blue orbs that were darkened by the contrast of the bright moonlight illuminating the whites of those eyes. Those eyes were gazing into his, not in a predatory way but more of an intense wondering. Arthur found himself easily staring right back and realized he felt completely at ease.

The hand on his neck slowly moved down to cup his jaw and a thumb stroked his cheek in silent asking. He blinked up at Eames and with not a second’s hesitation turned his head slightly and their mouths slid together like long lost puzzle pieces, joining together in the way that they were meant to be. Arthur’ eyes fell closed as his energy was captured by the full lips pressed gently against his own.

They stayed like that for several moments and Arthur realized Eames was leaving the rest up to him, letting him choose to either accept Eames’ kiss or to halt both of their actions. But Eames’ smell and the thumb caressing his cheek and the peaceful surrender overtaking him sent his mouth pressing back. He moved his bottom lip in between both of the Forger’s, forcing those lips open just enough for him to slip his tongue slowly inside, the tip lightly touching the tip of Eames’ tongue.

He barely heard him whimper but it was enough for him to heavily sigh and reach up to grab the collar of Eames’ shirt and pull, bringing their tongues fully into each other’s mouths and then they were off.

It was the deepest kiss Arthur had ever experienced. It was not forceful nor was it hurried; neither was in control but equal participants in the dance of their mouths. It was dizzying to know how natural this all felt. Eames’ hand moved and his fingers slipped under the collar of Arthur’s shirt and rubbed his collarbone, the tickling sensation making him arch into the man against him and the soft moan that escaped Eames this time was perfectly audible. Their mouths opened to take a few breaths but their tongues never lost contact, licking across each other’s teeth, Arthur swiping at the roof of Eames’ mouth which gave the other man the opportunity to rub their bottom lips together.

Arthur didn’t realize what he was doing until Eames gasped so he pulled back and looked down to see that he had completely undone Eames’ pants. He felt the heat coming off his skin in waves, even through the cotton of the man’s underwear. He glanced up into those steel blue eyes and saw that Eames looked nervous, wanton but nervous. He stared at him for a moment then softly nuzzled his face against his and Eames let out a breath he might’ve been holding and Arthur felt familiar fingers on his zipper, working his own pants open. He shuddered at the feel of knuckles brushing his lower belly. He suddenly wanted the man’s cock in his hand very badly.

He reached under the cotton material and groaned when he felt how hard Eames was and knew it was all for him. He wrapped his hand around the warm, thick member and gave a gentle squeeze. The wide open-mouthed cry he was rewarded with sent a bolt of desire straight to his own cock which pulsed as the Forger’s hand wrapped around him. He heard himself give a high-pitched whimper and he stroked Eames firmly before capturing his lips again.

They moved and moaned together as they rubbed and handled each other, hips pushing forward to bring them closer with each stroke. After a while they weren’t even kissing anymore, just exchanging breath as they panted.

Arthur felt the hand on him leave him and he felt Eames push his jeans down a bit. He sighed when he felt Eames’ warm, rough hand briefly move across the cleft of his ass in the process. Then there were fingers at his lips and he opened his eyes to see Eames’ dilated pupils staring back at him, into him. He was completely entranced and his mouth welcomed the fingers as they slid into it and his lips automatically wrapped around both of them and sucked, his eyes never leaving Eames’. He saw his eyebrows furrow in pleasure and he heard Eames’ give a sound that was an erotic mixture of a whimper and a purr and the sound made him so lightheaded in response that had he been standing he would’ve collapsed.

He suckled on the digits, swirling his wet tongue around them, tasting a little of himself on them and something else that was distinctly Eames. He began feeling high as he now became acquainted with Eames’ taste as well as his scent and he decided that he would never be able to get enough.

All too soon, those fingers slowly left his mouth and Arthur made a noise of disappointment. He felt that hand move further down and he paused in his ministrations on Eames’ cock as the hand moved behind him and knuckles brushed against his ass. He looked up at Eames in surprise but was immediately eased when he saw the bared longing in those eyes, the emotions they were silently expressing made something Arthur couldn’t identify burst in his chest and he sighed contentedly. He stared up at Eames through his dark lashes and leaned their foreheads against each other as he raised his leg and wrapped it around Eames’ hip to give him complete access to his body.

“Arthur…” the Forger sighed in pleasure and moved his slick fingers to Arthur’s opening, the pad of one finger rubbing lightly over his hole.

That finger pressed against his hole and Arthur all but whined and stroked Eames’ still hard cock firmly. He lined their cocks up, wrapping his hand around them both as he used his leg to bring their hips flush against each other. Eames moaned out loud and slowly slid the first finger inside Arthur.

Arthur gasped, his body clenching up in reaction but he forced himself to relax, calming himself to he could open himself up to Eames; he wanted that finger all the way inside of him. Then there was that thumb again, stroking his skin lightly, reassuringly and Arthur pushed down on the finger, taking it all the way.

It felt so good; it stung just a little but the pressure was so delightful and the little noise he heard the other man make made Arthur want, need to hear more noises from Eames so he rolled his hips, their cocks rubbing hard against each other, and gave them a good squeeze and Eames gave a sharp cry that echoed into the night around them. Arthur could not help it; he chuckled and Eames looked at him hard. And he thrust his finger right up into Arthur, pulling his own cry from him and before Arthur had a chance to react, Eames thrust up into him again, and again, and again.

It wasn’t long before he was a writhing mess. He felt their cocks beginning to leak, slowly dripping down the heads and Arthur paused, gathering a few drops of them both onto two fingers and reaching up in between their mouths and Eames paused as well, glancing down at them. Arthur held his stare and he slipped one come covered fingertip past Eames’ lips and the other into his own mouth. Their eyes remained locked as they tasted the essence of each other.

Eames let out a satisfied sigh and Arthur brought those full lips against his own for a long, chaste kiss. He broke the kiss when he felt Eames’ other finger probe at his entrance. Arthur keened and pushed down, trying to get that other thick digit inside him.

“Oh darling…” and at the endearment Arthur completely lost himself.

“Eames, please, please!” he cried and Eames practically growled as he sent his finger straight up into his lover to join the other, filling him. He opened his mouth to catch the high-pitched moan from Arthur and sealed his lips over his. Arthur pushed down and met Eames’ thrusts and grasped their cocks tight, stroking them at the same pace as Eames’ fingers.

The Forger swirled his fingers inside Arthur, hard and slow; Arthur opened his mouth, crying out and then his head fell on Eames’ shoulder and he bit down at that muscle that met his neck. When Eames gave a guttural groan, he sucked, hard.

They found their rhythm; push, pull, squeeze, stroke, suck. Over and over, harder and harder and they moaned out into the night. Their bodies moved wildly together, sweat beading on their foreheads and trickling down their necks, the heat between them stifling and the air they exhaled was practically steam with each desperate breath.

Then Eames’ fingers found that sweet spot inside him and Arthur smiled to himself as Arthur threw his head back and shouted as he suddenly came, hard, spilling himself between them. Eames’ gently stroked his lover’s insides as he rode it out. Arthur had temporarily stopped working their cocks as he came, but as the crashing waves of pleasure began to ease, he let go of himself and wrapped both of his hands completely around Eames rock hard and heavy cock and pulled, ground it against his own bare hip. He heard Eames gasp out something unintelligible and he took the head of Eames’ cock and gently rubbed it along his own softening member and then against his pubic mound. He watched Eames’ face intently as he touched the pad of his thumb into the wet slit. Arthur was startled when Eames gave a shout and cried out his name.

“God, Arthur!” a shocking, unexpected shot of pleasure sent Arthur’s spine rigid at hearing his name in utter ecstasy falling from his lover’s lips and when Eames spilled his hot seed all over his hand, he cried out in return as a second orgasm grappled him and he clutched at Eames, desperately, both of them holding each other tight as they came together.

He didn’t know how much time passed, it could’ve been seconds or minutes, he couldn’t tell. When his head cleared, he felt Eames slowly pull his fingers from him and cup his ass very lightly, his warm hand trembling against his skin. Arthur focused his eyes on the Forger; Eames’ eyes were closed and he was taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He leaned forward and pressed a barely there kiss to those red lips and Eames slowly opened his eyes and Arthur smiled at the blissed out glaze he saw shining in the dark blue orbs. He reached up to touch his face but stopped when he noticed his hand was still wet with their come and before he could think of what to do, Eames leaned forward slightly and flicked his tongue out and lapped at the wet fingers. Arthur hummed and licked his palm clean and the underside of his soiled fingers. Their tongues bumped into each other as they tasted, swallowed and cleaned their spillings.

Once they were done, they stared at each other lovingly, a happy smile spreading across Eames’ face that he had never seen before. They were leaning forward again when they heard chanting around them and they looked up just in time to hear screams.

“Bonne année! Happy New Year!”

They started in fright as the first fireworks exploded into the sky and the entire night was lit up by a dazzling array of colors that was accented by the glittering stars and the full moon’s light.

They stared captivated for a minute before they turned to each other before they burst out laughing, clutching their stomachs and tears streaming from their eyes and the moment couldn’t have been more perfect.

Arthur turned and pulled Eames to him and their tongues danced once again as they welcomed in the New Year with a kiss, a year full of many new beginnings and adventures.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this song:
> 
>  _When you find the one you want to keep_  
>  _Oh, we wonder how we did not see_  
>  _Our eyes open when we find that love_  
>  _And we heal_  
> [Must Be the Love](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X8d7C2m7tCQ)  
>  by Arty, Nadia Ali and BT


End file.
